


The Monster in Me and You

by Teddy_Feathers



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: But horrorTale is awesome check it out, HorrorTale, Poor addaptation, Stuttering, my writing style is too many words, occational mentions of cutting, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-03 15:16:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6615553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teddy_Feathers/pseuds/Teddy_Feathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to do a HorrorTale story (check them out on tumblr). The world is a dark and strange place after "the apocalypses" hit. Zombies and worse things scour the earth. While humanity has always been the better monster, loosing most of the race and having to start over in the ruins of the old world has done wonders for the attitudes of the survivors. But there are worse things than what the apocalypse has wrought lingering in the bowels of the earth. And if they ever reach the surface? Peace on Earth and Good Will towards men may go out the window. The world may have ended as we know it, but its up to Frisk to figure out what the epilogue will say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have at least four other things I should be working on. I have no excuse for working on this instead.

She held the knife loosely in her hand – gently – at odds with the tension apparent in the rest of her body. The thoughts she was thinking were bad – she knew that. Not that there was much thinking. But there was so much _feeling_. So much pain and hurt and loneliness and SHUT UP IN MY HEAD.  Her hand clenched the handle. She just wanted it to stop.

There had to be some escape right? The emotional upheaval that was slowly drowning her. The knife bit into her skin. There was air again. Cold metal warm blood and her heart no longer felt constricted. It was a taste of freedom.

Clean up was easy, wiping her knife on her jeans and folding it closed. As for her arm… She watched it bleed for a moment. Sluggishly through the shallow cut. Just a little thing to have such power. A band aid went over it. The friendly little cartoon character smiling at her as if it could make the “booboo” go away.

Too bad it couldn’t stop the bleeding in her head, the poison in her mind, the voices that even now were only pushed back not gone forever.

Her arms were lined with little cuts like the new one… Scars and band aids were safely tucked under her oversized sweater. Sure she had wounds. No need to advertise her weaknesses though.

She took a deep breath of cold and cleansing air. It was a beautiful day. It was a beautiful day and everything was going to be fine. She had to believe that. Was determined to make it so.

* * *

The darkness receded like a foggy dream and Frisk looked around at the barren land around her, glad to see nothing had taken advantage of her distraction.

The moon had taken her away for a moment, and she dropped the hand rubbing absently at the stone around her neck.

She could have sworn someone was here…but no.

Frisk was alone.

Looking towards the crumbling ruins of the nearby city, she thought perhaps that was for the best. Dark dreams and apocalypse beings were the only things likely to keep her company out here, and Frisk wanted nothing to do with either.

Life had been different before. When she was a kid…Before the moon remained a permanent fixture in the sky glowing red and ominously day and night, when the sun wasn’t a distant warm glimmer in her memory. But now she was fifteen, practically an adult. Too old to worry about what could have been and too young to remember the past with a fond eye.

Besides, she had work to do. Say whatever you wanted to about the rampant destruction that came with “the apocalypses” it did wonders for humanity’s ability to accept their fellow man. No longer race, class, and gender wars, just the need to cling together for survival, finding a way to carve out a happy life for all. And Frisk was happy to do her part.

She started walking again, hunching slightly against the cold wind, picking her way carefully along the shattered asphalt. No telling what had split the road into bits, but the shadowy debris made it a struggle to pick her way along. The hunter’s moon didn’t cast much light during the “day” or “night” but Frisk had a lantern to fight back the encroaching darkness.

Oil _not_ electric.

Batteries were one of the things they needed to loot more of from the abandoned cities and towns. Besides electricity did weird things nowadays. Scientists – what was left of them at any rate – would no doubt say it was just a weird pitch outside of human hearing effecting human’s brainwaves and sensory input… But they were too busy trying to solve the zombie problems to bother, and reasonable explanation or not steady light was not worth the price of listening to the whispers of the damned.

Not that Frisk was afraid – as one of the top foragers she’d run into just about every sort of “apocalypse being” out there. Zombies of course, but also things that had crawled out of the oceans not long after the rotting mess of dead sea life had dissipated, feral animals, manmade technology left over from before actively seeking energy sources of their own…

But surprisingly of all the horrors that Frisk had faced in her life, another human wasn’t one.

When the apocalypses struck there was chaos. Fear and fighting and religious uprisings. The worst of humanity was shown in those first years. While Frisk had only been a small child then, no more than two or three at the most, she could picture it clearly.

A city full of screaming people, families turning against one another, news reports of wars breaking out, death tolls rising as all tried to greedily hog all resources for themselves, to take whatever they want because the land was getting colder and they were all going to die anyways. How easy it would have been for a kid to loose everyone and in the struggle for survival, grow up to believe in a world of cruelty. Of hatred.  That death and pain and torment were man’s last legacy on earth. Frisk could see it in her mind’s eye so very well it was like she had lived it herself.

But it didn’t take long for humans to realize that to actually live and have meaning, there had to be trust. They had to work together. They couldn’t afford not to care about one another. So even as most living things withered, died, or changed horribly from what was the way of things before, humans grew and in some ways thrived. While the earth grew cold their hearts grew warm. And that was the world Frisk had been raised in, had grown to love and adore, and was determined to help.

In her mind she _knew_ the world could have been twisted and hateful and the guiding rule would have been Kill or be Killed. So Frisk was determined to never let that happen. The world had proven in small ways and large that it was a better place than that. That people always could be better than that even if that was buried deep down. Frisk worked for that, would fight for it, believed in it single-mindedly. 

Which is why even though she was only fifteen, she was already let out of the compound. Let out to cross the barren land, following the old roads to travel into the abandoned cities. She always stayed out of trouble, brought back things that were useful as well as treats for all those who didn’t get to go, and after her trips she mapped the area – updating charts of the zombie’s migration, sightings of artificial intelligence, gathered news about the other compounds from fellow scavengers.

Finally there was a break in the wind; she’d made it to what was left of the city. Once the buildings reached proudly up to the sky, now their husks slanted and sagged as if they had grown old and weary with existing. While they weren’t much to look at, and certainly not habitable, they did provide some relief from the cold. Frisk worked her way around the rubble, automobiles, and rubbish that littered the street. The first few buildings she knew where simply husks, anything useful stripped of them. The good stuff was further in.

They were always on the lookout for canned foods, batteries, lighters, candles, multi-tool, and the like. Small useful things a body could move fast with, just in case. Frisk kept her attention half on where she was going and half on her surroundings. The red moon didn’t cast much light to begin, and the buildings scattered what there was of it leaving dark pockets for things to hide.

Some would stick to the edges of the city, because they would rather have an even chance of sprinting back to the safety of the compound than risk accidently tripping over an apocalypse being in the mess of the city. Frisk would rather go where things weren’t so picked over. It might be slow going, checking every bit of pooled darkness with her lamp before moving on, but she was well practiced in this now.

It didn’t take long at all for her to reach building she was currently working on, the mall. The clothing dummys had given her pause the first few times she’d been in there – they looked earily similar to the Zombies with moldy rags hanging off of them – but otherwise she hadn’t run into anything especially dangerous. The place was a treasure trove of things the compound could use.

The clothes _were_ too far gone to be saved, but there were tools, housing items, and even toys for the littles back home. Not only was she able to load up her backpack quickly, the place looked almost magical with the red moonlight filtered through the skylights. It barely took her an hour to fill up and then… Then she had time to explore.

Frisk would leave her pack by the hole in the wall she’d climbed in through, and wonder around the city unburdened. She’d found so many interesting things that way. A nest of weird deformed rabbit snakes, a former green space where people walked in and never walked out of – slowly turning to statues, an old set of offices where a radio called for help…Frisk would mentally mark it and add it to her map when she returned. But exploring she also discovered nice things.

A perfectly intact children’s room, looking untouched and full of still functioning things. The place felt both safe and not, but Frisk had visited in aw several times wondering if had the world not fallen appart would _this_ be the sort of place she would have grown up in? With glow in the dark teddy bears that sang, clocks with moving eyes that meowed on the hour, and a cartoon band aids for when you scraped your knee?

She was too old for such things now…But it was something to work towards. So that kids would one day again get to have their own rooms, know who their parents were, and eat candy in the shape of their favorite story characters. The small things were just as important as the big things.

Today she was going to the other side of the city. She’d been making her way down what was left of the main street, and knew she was almost there. Again she moved slowly, cautiously, but she knew the way and unless something new had moved into the area it was mostly safe. Despite her excitement she was apprehensive. There was the city and a couple of compounds in the area… But after that?

Barren.

Cold.

Nothing.

Oh… And the mountain. Which was a tall barren cold nothing. Eventually they’d run out of buildings to loot, run out of places to discover. Sure they were mostly self-sustaining in the compound, but Frisk wanted more. Everyone left of humanity was doing their part to further making the world a better place, but Frisk had always had a need to discover, to push past limitations.

When there were no places left to go to what would she do?  Pack her bag full of supplies and cross the wastelands? Probably.

A whimper interrupted her thoughts. Frisk stopped and carefully lifted her lantern higher. Nothing moved in the light, but she heard another whimper. Close. Maybe down that crowded alley. It sounded like a child… But what would a kid be doing out here?

She walked slowly shifting a couple of large scraps to squeeze through too small gaps. Her light caught eyes. Wide, frightened. For a second neither of them moved. Short fluffy hair cut unevenly around ear level, a face made for smiling smeared with dirt, and those too wide eyes.

“Hel-hel-heeello there. D-d- don’t baaaaaaaaa-b-be afraid.” It was a struggle but she got the words out. She hated her stuttering. Was easier to do things than say things honestly. But she was trying to reassure the child that she wasn’t one of the apocalypse beings come to eat them. They just stared wide eyed back at her, throat swallowing hard as if they could also feel the lump she had to work around.

She tried smiling, which was returned by the child lightening up their face considerably. Good. Frisk reached out to pull the child out and they also stretched out their hand. It wasn’t until they met and she felt cool glass under her finger tips that she realized she’d been trying to coax out her reflection.

…But then who had been whimpering?

The glass fell back under touch, and there was a scramble of feet. A striped sweater fled around the corner.

“Wa-wa-wa-wa – Stop!” Frisk yelled after the child, heedless of calling down anything that was listening. She struggled to crawl out of the small space without cutting herself on the shards of the mirror. As soon as she was on her feet she was after the child. The city had never been a safe place for a kid on their own. She had to catch that kid before something else did.

If anything got that kid… just because she couldn’t speak fast enough or clearly enough – No. She was determined not to let that happen.

Frisk followed the too loud pounding of feet, the little panting breaths that showed white in the air, the occasional glimpses of a striped shirt and messy hair. She was gaining and hardly noticed when they left the ruined city behind. When they started up the incline of the mountain.

So close.

Tantalizingly so.

Frisk could save them.

She reached out a hand – and tripped.

Over what it didn’t matter as she was falling into a pit of darkness.

The sound of laughter followed her down.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooooo sorry. In advanced. I'm not so good at this writing thing. And I just KNOW that some people are going to see that post they did of my fic and think its going to be good like all the quality writing and art they post and this is not on that level at all! (How did they even know? I didn't tell them!) For one thing I have no sense of passing and can't build up tension needed for proper horror. So yeah. Really sorry.
> 
> BUT if you're interested in GOOD horrortale stuff checkout horrortale on tumblr and Tellcosy's fic Moth to Flame.
> 
> And I really really hope I'm doing marginally well portraying someone with a stutter/stammer. I hope its not offensive.  
> Oh! And I know disclaimers aren't really a thing here on AO3 but I should mention that I pulled heavily from what they told us in the FAQ and Characters section. I mean... I fail to accurately portray a lot of it, but its all Minty's, Bee's, and Shorty's ideas. Not mine. At all.

Frisk woke in darkness… Not even the red moon's ever present glow filtered down. Shakily she sat up. Sore and bruised but otherwise intact. She felt around until her hand brushed against her lamp, causing the flame to flicker to life briefly before dying back down. Quickly she set it up right and saved the wick from drowning. Then she turned it up.

Green.

That was the first impression she had of the cave she had fallen into. Vines covered the walls, the floor, even the ceiling. There was no sign of the hole she’d fallen down. Or the child she’d been chasing.

The soft sound of movement started her heart racing.

There. Slithering slowly towards her was a vine, moving with a will of its own.

Frisk hadn’t seen plant life outside of the carefully regulated and supervised green house in the compound, but she was pretty sure that vines weren’t supposed to do that. Carefully she crawled backwards away from the advancing tendril. When her back hit the wall she used it to pull herself to her feet.

Her mistake.

So intent on the single one, she forgot about the mass of vines everywhere else. Moving much faster than the one creeping towards her, they slide up her arms and legs, wrapping around her and rendering her immobile.

Tight. Too tight to breath almost, they crushed her and struggling only tightened them further.

Frisk couldn’t even reach her pocket and the knife within.

Completely helpless she watched as the vine stretching ominously towards her along the ground rose up to eye level. Like some sort of snake ready to strike.

It hovered there for a moment, before the top pealed away, unfolding into a grey petaled flower.

A flower with a face.

The petals shifted a bit, as the small face in the central disk inspected her with obvious intelligence. Well if it was sentient maybe it could be reasoned with? Frisk opened her mouth to try, but the face’s expression flicked to something horrifying before returning to a simple grin.

Her mouth snapped shut and she swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. Just because someone was home in there didn’t mean it wasn’t going to hurt her.

“Howdy _friend._ ” Maybe it was just her fear, but its voice sure didn’t sound friendly. It sounded angry. “I’m Flowey, Flowey the flower. You look lost.” All the same she had to give it the benefit of the doubt. Everyone had the ability to be good. Frisk tried smiling, not sure that she could push past the fear yet to speak.

It smiled back, showing a row of small needle point teeth. The smile was…hungry. “You shouldn’t have come here. It’s not safe for such a _tender_ morsel.” The vines around her tightened, causing her vision to go spotty for a moment as she lost access to air.

They loosened marginally, enough to make sure she retained consciousness. Frisk tried again to choke out words. “P-p-pl-” Stupid stutter. The flower moved in until it was only inches away from her face.

It’s hot breath actually smelled floral, with a hint of copper.

His grin was wide and cruel, obviously enjoying her pain and distress. “Pl-pl- pleeeeeease~” He mocked, tightening the vines. “You should know by now, in this world its **kill or be killed**.”

**No.**

Frisk shook her head in defiance, ignoring the crushing weight around her body. The world was what you made it, and she knew that if one was determined enough it could be a better place.

The worst could lead to the best.

Flowey pulled back and glared down at her. “You don’t think so? Stupid of you.” All along the stem dark red thorns began to push out, gleaming sharply in the lamp light. There was a sharp biting pain everywhere the vines touched her.

Her eyes watered, it hurt, and she could tell by the gleeful expression that this was just the beginning.

“No-no-no.” Frisk pushed her head forward as if she could physically force the words out. “Y-y-y you cannnnnnnnn be b-b-b-b-b-better than this.” How lame that sounded, didn’t even begin to express how she _knew_ that this creature was more than a mindless apocalypse being. That it was choosing to be this way, that there was more to it than this.

It _wasn’t_ a kill or be killed world. She wouldn’t _let_ it be.

Frisk stared down the flower determinedly. Defiantly.

For a second the flower hesitated, looking confused and swaying side to side. Then its cruel expression returned. “You sure are an idiot. Let your _pal_ Flowey show you how the world works. It’s the _least_ I can do _buddy_.”

 

Bracing for more pain only caused her to tense and shift the thorns already piercing her skin. She cried out again, and this time someone answered.

Fire flushed into the room, unexpected heat and light, making the room smell of burning plant. There was a high pitched scream and she found herself free as the vines and thorns tore away from her.

Then the room grew dark and silent. Frisk’s eyes had little glowing sun spots in them, but she didn’t have time to adjust back to the dim light of her lantern. Someone was softly padding towards her. Who was it? She couldn’t quite make it out except that they were large, dark figure.

Whoever it was saved her. That was all that really mattered. 

She spared a moment to feel bad for the flower creature. It had had a name, intelligence, and had been so very different from the mindless destructive apocalypse beings. Surely he could be reasoned with. Though…Frisk would much rather that happen when she had a method of escape and wasn’t at his mercy.

Her rescuer stopped on the other side of the lantern. “Poor lost child. So tormented.” The voice was sweet, kind even. So much more sincere than the flower had sounded. Was she shaking? Or was that the flickering of the light?

Frisk’s eyes widened in surprise as her eyes finally adjusted. The woman before her was not only large but not a woman at all. A large hairy beast stood before her. White fur, large dark horns jutting out from her head and sharp teeth at claws. So very at odds with the soft spoken words coming from her.

Then again appearances could be deceiving. Who would have expected a flower to be so terrifying?

Oblivious or uncaring of Frisk’s staring the monster continued speaking. “You just need to be set free. From the pain. From the monsters. From _life itself_.” The kind soft voice turned harsh and a fireball appeared in the hand the beast causing her features to look even more menacing.

“Any last words child?” The creature asked, almost motherly, as if asking if she would like a sweet.

Frisk was covered in little nicks, all of which stung now that they were exposed to the open air and allowed to bleed freely. She was sore from falling who knows how far down into what seemed like hell so far. And her savior was yet another intelligent being that wanted her dead.

She had a lot of words he wanted to say, but probably couldn’t get them out.

Still she stood up straight, and faced this new threat squarely. “Pl-pl-pl, d-d-d-, mmmmmmmmm.” Nothing wanted to work right. Frisk had trouble articulating at the best of times, which this was not. She sounded like she was babbling.

Surprisingly the monster, woman, didn’t mock Frisk for her frustrating language difficulties like the flower had.

Instead her still surprisingly kind and gentle voice patiently worked with her. “Here say it with me. ‘Please don’t kill me.’ Come now dear, you can do it.”

“Please” “pleeease” “don’t” “d-d-don’t” “kill” “kill” “me” “mmme.”

Following along with her helped immensely, she could listen and imitate her way of rounding the words out of her mouth.

Suddenly Frisk felt much better. This monster had said she was going to kill her, but then took time not only to listen but to _help_ her. Everyone had good inside of them. Sometimes it just took a bit more effort to draw it out.

“Dear, don’t worry. I promise to care for you, keep you safe from this harsh world.” Dispite the reassuring words, the fireball grew darker and larger in her hand. “This will be painless. Just hold still and it will be over quickly.”

Well obviously there was still communication error.

A sharply clawed paw held up the flame before casting it at her. Frisk dodged out of the way and shook her head quickly.

No. No. No.

“Now child this is for your own good.”

She dodged again, and again trying to communicate her unwillingness to fight – but the flames kept getting closer and closer and she was so tired and sore….and the monster woman’s face just got more and more angry and harsh.

“HOLD STILL AND LET ME END YOUR SUFFERING.” The angry shout – practically a roar – convinced her that it was pointless trying to argue with her like this. She wasn’t willing to listen.

Frisk bolted around her instead. Maybe she would go back to being reasonable once she calmed down. Despite her injuries she soon lost the woman in the dark maze of passages, letting her fear driven instincts guide her where they would. Until the sound of pursuit had finally subsided.

She took a moment or two to rest leaning against a vine free wall – she’d checked – and tried to catch her breath. Digging in her pockets revealed her swiss army knife, a handful of bandages, and a book of matches. That and her lamp was all she had with her.

Looking over the bits of her that still hurt she started doctoring up the worst of the cuts. Some were barely scratches; it was just the sheer amount that caused her body to feel as if she was crawling with angry biting ants. Her oil lamp flickered in a breeze that shouldn’t be here.

This was underground.

She snatched up her lamp again. Turning it down, Frisk pressed onward.

There had to be another way out.

She just had to find it.

As her heart slowed and her body wound down she found her eyes trying to drift closed. Frisk shook her head, but it was getting worse and the dark and the damp cool air of the caves weren’t helping any.

Finally she stumbled into a larger area. Her light didn’t stretch that far around her, but as she edged her way into it she saw a broken sign on the ground. Her tired mind slipped around the letters for a moment before it finally resolved itself.

Home.

A long abandoned home by the looks of it. The door hung open and half off the hinges, and cracks ran down the walls, but it was a building. One that was dark and silent, not full of things trying to kill her. Frisk walked into the first room with a bed and dropped down, ignoring the dirt and grim of disuse. Before giving in and sleeping she turned off her lamp.

No telling how long she’d be down here. That oil had to last.

Sleep.

* * *

It wasn’t  the scent of mold or must that woke her.

Nor the ever present chill in the air that, while perhaps warmer than the surface, was more invasive – seeping into the bones and making them ache.

No, what woke her was the smell of rot.

Spoiled meat.

Death.

Frisk’s eyes snapped open. How had she missed that when she found her way in here? She waited a moment, listening, but there was no sound of movement. Of course… If it was Zombies they wouldn’t move until she made a sound.

Ever so slowly she slipped off the bed she had rested on, and sent her hands searching for the lantern. Finding it, she pulled out a match and lit it and then waited.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Nothing stirred.

Carefully she pulled out her knife and folded it open. Clutching it tightly in one hand, and using the other to hold the light ahead of her, she opened the door until it was flat with the wall.

Still no reaction, but the smell grew worse.

They were close.

Retracing her path from last night, she made her way down the hall into the living room. Where her light revealed the source of the stench.

Bodies.

Bodies filled the room.

Posed.

Held upright on stands.

Not Zombies at all.

Just stationed around the room. In between the rubbish filled chimney and the rocking chair. Leaning against the bookcase. Lining the walls.

Frisk’s mind tried and couldn’t process it. Why would someone do this. What was this. Not even questions just thoughts echoing hollowly in her mind around the smell.

She didn’t notice the light level growing steadily brighter, the detail growing clearer. That one had a bandana holding its head to its neck. That one was missing an arm, but had a toy gun jammed in place of it.

Children.

These were the bodies of children.

“There you are darling.”

Her head turned involuntarily towards the voice. The kind. Soft. _Motherly_ voice.

The woman seemed smaller than she had before. Too small for the largeness of the horror the room contained.  She stood at the head of stairs she hadn’t noticed, holding a ball of fire in her hands.

“I see you’ve met the rest of my children.” The empty claw tipped hand gestured around to the displays shakily. “They all begged me to send them home. To _free them._ As if I was the one keeping them here.” She moved closer, but Frisk was frozen unable to react.

“I tried to tell them. Warn them about what awaited them out there. About… ** _him._** They didn’t listen.” The monster’s form flinched and looked sadly over the dead. “They wouldn’t **listen.** ” Harshness. Bitter.

Frisk watched helplessly as a fat tear squeezed out of one red eye. The other had a brand in it, and didn’t move no matter where she looked.

“I did my best to prepare them. To be a good mother. To save them.” She slammed her hand against the wall, leaving a fist shaped impression. “THEY ALL LEFT ME. LEFT AND NEVER CAME BACK.”

Eye wild, the creature was suddenly before her, looming. Frisk flinched but there was nowhere to go. She had to know. She had to understand.

“Do you know what it’s like? Skulking along the land you once protected to find what’s _left_ of your children? Knowing that you could be next. Knowing the next one will fall to the same fate? DO YOU?” Frisk felt hot tears rolling down her cheeks. No. No she couldn’t know that.

Despite her silence the woman seemed satisfied. “Of course not.” She reached out an unsteady clawed finger and trailed it down Frisk’s wet cheek. “But you _must_ understand that I would rather be dead, would rather see you dead by my hand than let anyone else take you away from me.”

For the first time the creature seemed to really look and see Frisk. Crying. Holding a knife and lantern weakly  between them. “Poor child. You wish to end my life instead? I’ll allow it. You look just like my second child. Sometimes I think the curse of my dead children stem from her betrayal. But I loved her all the same. So come. Kill me child. End my pain.”

No. NO.

Frisk couldn’t even begin to speak. But she shook her head. She _wouldn’t_. Just because she was ill. Just because she was somewhat horrid… There was still a good person here. A good person who had been broken down by cruelty.

She wasn’t sure she could kill anyone, let alone a mother eternally morning her children.

Frisk darted forward and wrapped her arms around her. As much as she could. She hugged her tightly. Wishing she _could_ end the woman’s pain. Just not that way. That way never solved anything. Humanity had long ago learned that lesson.

There were faint tremors rocking her furry body, as if she was old or infirm in a way not overtly apparent. A warm hand held her close.

Softly sighing, the woman spoke above her head. “If you won’t end this cycle child, I must continue it. I will not allow you to suffer as the others did.” Frisk tightened her hug and shook her head into the woman’s fur. 

There had to be another way. A way to prove she wouldn’t let whatever had killed the children, kill her.

“If you don’t want me to kill you, you must make use of your knife child. It is a harsh lesson we all must learn. To survive here it is kill or be killed.”

No!

Frisk shoved back forcefully from her.

No. The world was a better place you just had to make it so. You just had to work for it. Be determined.

She threw her knife down on the floor between them and fled out the door, back into the dark halls. She didn’t hear anyone chasing her, but she kept running anyways.

It didn’t take long for her to become hopelessly lost.

This time her wild flight wasn’t as easy either. Pits with sharp spikes in the bottom, trip wires, unstable boulders propped overhead – all sorts of traps that would kill her if it weren’t for a last minute correction to her course. Frisk was running faster than her lantern could illuminate, but she couldn’t help it.

There was a sick feeling in her gut, a niggling voice in her head saying that the only way forward was to kill her. To kill the mother and let her join her children.

That she would be the final child.

Maybe no matter how much she denied it, this horrible place wouldn’t let her escape without changing her. Making her as harsh and heartless as it was.

She wouldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

SHE WOULDN’T.

Frisk missed the red moon. The ruins. The apocalypse beings. Monsters that were senseless. Incapable of betterment. Not these creatures. Creatures that embodied everything that humanity had wanted to leave behind.

What if they hadn’t left it behind, but simply driven it into the ground to fester?

What if these creatures, true monsters because they could be so much better and _choose_ not to be, were to reach the surface? Pacifist humans could avoid and live around the apocalypse beings, and had eked out a way to survive in the harsh environment. These large and powerful creatures would have no problem.

No problem clawing their way out of hell and bringing with them there horrible cruel world views. Humans were good at surviving. If the monsters came to them with smiling faces and murder in their hearts, humanity would return the favor.

There would be no happy ending for everyone. The apocalypse would have finally finished what it started. Destroying all that was bright and beautiful in the world.

That couldn’t happen.

Frisk stopped running.

She wouldn’t let it. Wouldn’t let them.

She would fight it. Fight back against all their attempts to change her. To crush her spirit. She was determined. They had the capability to be good. She just had to try to pull it out of them the way their violent natures tried to pull her inner monster out.

It was a challenge she had to win.

Nothing could stop her. Not even herself.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... This is all OVERLY dramatic. And apparently when people are constantly trying to murder you they don't have the courtesy to give you their names. At least Flowey was kind enough to introduce himself.

A soft wind that shouldn’t be caused her oil lamp to flicker, no matter what she did to protect it… It didn’t matter which direction she faced or if she was moving or still. The light just beat with a pulse of its own. The darkness seemed to encroach on it, as if trying to suffocate it into giving up. She had to fight against the urge of turning the lamp up and using more oil… besides she had a feeling that would only encourage the shadows.

It took a while to notice, so focused she was on avoiding and then deactivating the traps she saw along her way, but there was a soft crying. Always just barely heard, always coming from behind her. A wailing so pitiful that it was impossible to ignore once she noticed it…But there was nobody there. Just Frisk, the light, and the dark the preyed upon them both.

Unwinding trip wires and stringing them across pit traps kept her hands busy, but not her mind. Maybe it was just the soft sounds of sadness that haunted her every step but her mood went from afraid, to cautious, to hesitant, to considering, to worry...

As her emotions spiraled downwards so did her thoughts.

The child she’d left on the mountain was probably dead. Someone had probably been traveling from one of the nearby compounds and that kid ended up all alone. All alone just like all the other kids in her compound. The adults say surely god was with them, but it was hard to have faith when you always felt alone. That child could have had a new family if not for her clumsiness. If she could have just found a way to choke out the words that needed to be said.

It was all her fault.

And what of the littles? The ones who didn’t, couldn’t imagine a time before. They were expecting treats. They were expecting tales of _wonder_ about the outside world. Now they would only have the hushed worry and murmurs of how the apocalypses had made everything worse. That the ones who had already passed were the lucky ones.

There was no one to bring them hope.

Of course…The compound would probably be just fine without her. They had adults who were working and savaging and just as capable as her, if not more so. They might not even notice when she didn’t come back at first. Wasn’t like she bothered talking much anyways. And when she did, who had time to listen to her struggle to say the simplest things? The compound would find someone better to suited to travel between compounds. Any fool could update the map.

They didn’t need her.

Frisk always thought she could make a difference. That she could help keep humanity on the right path. But when faced with what made people monsters? With violence and hatred? All she had was fear. Running away. Nothing she did would change anyone down here. At some point she’d stop getting lucky. She’d slip up and get really hurt. Even if she managed to convince _one_ of them that there was a better way, that they could change if they just _tried_ … Something down here would eventually kill her, proving that might does make right.

What did it even matter?

Why bother trying.

It was so much easier to realize that you were beaten before you even began.

At some point Frisk just stopped. Sat down next to the pit she was working on making a safety line over and just coiled and uncoiled the rope in her hands.

She was beaten wasn’t she? It was kill or be killed. And no matter how much she didn’t want the world to be that way…If she died down here that was it. They were right and she was wrong. No saving anyone. The world was only as strong as people’s determination to live in it.

Right now that determination was stable in the compound. The energy was limited, but they made the most of it. The land was harsh and unforgiving, but they coaxed food from it. The world was caricature of all the things they’d fear would come…And yet… They still managed to survive. To find a better way.

Wasn’t that what she wanted?

Tears threatened to spill over as she fiddled with the rope. It felt like she was waging a war in her emotions. Between hope and despair.

The creatures down here saw her as something weak…. And wasn’t she? Just because you _wanted_ something badly didn’t mean you were going to get it.

But…wasn’t it worth the attempt anyways?

Frisk wasn’t perfect. Maybe nothing she’d ever done had made a difference. Maybe she’d never discover something new or important, or make the world a better place. That didn’t really matter though.

What mattered was trying.

It was important and her failure wouldn’t change the fact that the world _could_ be a wonderful place if everyone tried.

The possibility existed and was worth fighting for.

Giving up was the only real failure.

“Oh.” Whispered a soft voice from behind her. She turned at the sound of it. “Oh.” It repeated  quietly.

Her shadow rose up, and the light flickered wildly in response. Maybe the fire was afraid. But oddly Frisk was not.

Not even when the swirling mass of darkness resolved itself into a black lump with silted eyes and mouth. Nor with the mouth opened and revealing sharp teeth as the horror let out a screech of awful despair.

She stood, the rope in her hand had somehow became a noose. Those feelings she could feel, hitting her like the crashing waves that no longer stirred in the ocean, That need to give up, the feeling of drowning, the crushing weight of guilt… All were coming from this. How could it exist in such a constant state of sorrow?

By sharing it. The noose felt heavy in her hands.

Sharing it, until the receiver wanted nothing more to end it. Frisk _understood._ She wanted to end it all too.

She dropped the rope.

But not like that.

The wailing cut off like a switch. The monster and the human girl just stared at one another. Basking in one another’s pain, loneliness, and doubt.

“Oh.” Came the realization. And with the realization came blood red tears pouring out of the empty slit eyes. Because it was okay to hurt. To suffer. To fear. To worry. To want to give up. When you couldn’t go on anymore… That’s when someone else came. And shared the burden. Then you weren’t alone.

Slowly the figure faded, like a ghost just lightening away to nothing.

The light stilled at last.

The darkness didn’t seem so heavy. The silence held no secret whispers. She was alone again.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out Frisk was okay with that.

She’d made a difference and she’d continue to do so. Even if bad things continued to happen, even if something did kill her… In the end she was alive and fought for what she believed in. That was making a difference. The small things mattered just as much as the large. That was what being determined was all about.

* * *

 

Returning to the home. To face the kind yet crazed mother. To convince her. That there could be more than death and despair.

She’d just stood up to something that embodied misery.

Surely she could withstand anything after that…

Picked up the abandoned knife on the way though. It was such a useful tool, she couldn’t leave it behind. She just wouldn’t use it as a weapon. She’d made up her mind what she was going to do.

Passing a mirror there was a glimpse - flash of red eyes in the face of that child. It was so unexpected that passing glance, that she went back to look again. But no. The reflection in the mirror was just her. And she _wasn’t_ a child. She was a teenager. Practically an adult.

Maybe age was just a number though. Maybe what made you an adult was your determination to stand for what you believed in. Even when the odds were against you. Frisk could do that.

Down the stairs she went. The long hallway that seemed to get longer as Frisk walked.  Brightly lit torches guided her path, and even thought this was the warmest she’d felt since she’d left the compound… There was a spike of ice inside of her. A creeping horror following her down the endless hallway, and a worse one that awaited her at the end.

This would be the final confrontation. One way or another.

“Hello my child. I’ve been waiting for you.” The shaking monster, white fur brilliant in the light, standing almost regally before her smiled softly down at her.

That was unfair. How long had she wanted to hear those very words? How much of her search of the ruins was to help the compound, and how much was for answers? Her family was probably dead, and she had the compound as a home…but it wasn’t the same. All Frisk ever wanted was a family.

“Mother.” Her voice was low and she managed the word with no hang-ups. Didn’t bother pushing her luck. Besides, all that had been needed to say was said in that single word.

She would accept the mothers love, but she would not allow it to be distorted any longer.

Frisk set down her lamp and opened her arms.

The monster flinched and then attacked. Like the last time, there was fire spiraling all around her and it was only her quick movements that kept her from getting more than slightly singed.

Mother shook, raged, cried, and in the end begged. As if Frisk was the one trying to destroy her, instead of dodging flurries of fire and silently asking her to stop.

Finally she did. The large creature just sank to the ground. Defeated.

“Go then. Spin your pretty ideals out there, go up against him with your foolish notions of betterment. Of perseverance and kindness, of justice and loyalty, of bravery and patience.”

Frisk panted heavily. She still wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“FIGHT HIM WITH ALL YOUR DETERMINATION…it matters not. It matters not for either way you lose.” She took a couple of steps forward, but the monster didn’t notice. Lost in dark memories that shook her frame. “You’ll see child, you’ll learn. I thought only to spare you the learning.”

So much sorrow and pain and hurt. How to reassure her that this time would be different?

“None can stand before him. And all that try?” Mother gestured weakly to her battered form. “Crumple. END.”

Slowly the broken looking creature stood. Collected herself. Seemed to echo a stronger person as she finally, finally looked Frisk in the eyes.

“My child go. Go through the woods, and through the waters, follow the road. All roads lead to the end. YOUR ENDING. I do not wish to see it. Leave me now. Leave me now to my weakness. Go find yours.”

Frisk put a gentle hand on her mother’s shoulder. But the monster brushed her aside and walked back into her lair. “Go.”

She would go - Go and be strong enough for both of them. Face him, whoever he was, and maybe even free Mother from her self-imposed prison.

There were no words to say. No promises to make. Either she’d find her way to the surface again and come back… or she wouldn’t.

The doors opened slowly, causing the torches to go out bringing a harsher cold. She grabbed her lamp and walked out them. They creaked closed behind her.

* * *

 

The air smelled of snow.

She looked down and there was white all around. But looking up there was no sky. No red moon gazing down hatefully. Just darkness and the tops of snow covered trees.

This must be the woods.

A shiver shot through her, having less to do with the icy air and more to do with the fear. It felt like she was being watched.

There were not trees on the surface. Not anymore. The only crowded enclosed spaces were in the city. The city she had meticulously inspected and understood. Filled with apocalypse beings…but those she understood and knew how to handle.

Who knew what awaited her here?

What watched from the snow, hid in the dark, lurked in the woods.

Her heart was thudding loudly in her ears and she was struck with a strong desire to leave. To turn and pound on the doors and beg the only mother she’d ever had to open the doors and keep her safe.

Frisk let herself imagine it. How happy the monster woman would be to have one of her children come back alive. How they could clean and air out the house. How she could have a proper room like the carefully preserved one she’d visit in the city.

She clutched at the stone and holy symbol at her chest, but neither brought her comfort.

Instead she held on to the memory of the room with the ticking clock that meowed on every hour. Of the hand quilted blankets. Of the drawings that littered the wall saying ‘my family’. The bear that if you pulled its string would sing.

“I-i-if y-y-you go out, in the wo-wo-woods today, you better go in disguise. If you g-g-go out in the woods today, you’re in for a big surprise.” Frisk started off low and hesitant, but as she sand her heart stopped its rapid flutter and her breathing evened out. Singing was one of the few things that she didn’t trip or get trapped in. The simple confidence that came with being able to say something without messing it up spread relief inside her, which carried over to her fears.

She could do this.

Lifting her lantern she followed the path, feet crunching in the snow. “For today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic.” Frisk didn’t raise her voice, but kept the song up. It was soothing. Singing about teddy bears lurking in the woods, playing harmless games. It might have been ‘safer to stay at home’ but for the chance to see them at play who’s to say she wouldn’t have done the same?

After all. It would have been safer to stay in the compound. But she’d wanted to do her part. Wanted to discover new things. Well… That was what she was doing. It was positive to think like that.

A crunch sounded behind her, louder than her own footsteps. Her voice cut off as fear slammed back into her. Frisk stopped walking and held her breath. Another hard crunch of a foot crushing snow. _Something was following her._

She started walking, this time faster, hoping to keep ahead of whatever it was. Two creatures had tried to kill her already. No reason to see if the third time would be the charm. Between her racing heart and the noise her own feet made in the snow, she couldn’t hear if her follower was still there.

Her mind told her she was being silly. There was nothing back that way other than the door, so if there was something there it had to be Mother. If not than something that came from the woods, and she’d faced three terrifying things so far. Another wouldn’t, _couldn’t,_ be any worse.

Too bad her heart and stomach weren’t listening to her mind. They both fluttered with panic.

“Turn around and **smile.** ” Frisk froze. The words sounded friendly but the tone did not. A running theme of this place it seemed. The voice was deep and menacing and came from right behind her, where the crunching footsteps had come from before. Gulping down the sudden lump in her throat she turned and offered up a weak smile.

Nobody was there.

She let out a deep breath, glad for once it was just her over active imagination and a real smile broke across her face in relief.

Frisk turned back around nose to nose with a large face inches from her own. Her heart stopped as she took it in. Wide maw with huge teeth from the under jut covering most of the face. Great big eye sockets, one empty the other glowing with a rusty red reminiscent of the light of the moon. “ **Boo.** ”

She flinched back in shock, falling hard on her rear looking up at this new monster. He started laughing, a rumbling sort of guffawing, and rose up to his full height. Which was far too huge. With her heart racing her mind could only offer up the opinion that he looked more like a grizzly bear than a teddy. Which startled a giggle out of her.

The monster stopped laughing abruptly to glare down curiously as Frisk lost it, laughing hysterically. She tried to explain but all that she could manage was, “T-t-teddy!” before being overcome by laughter again. It was hard to see the big bad creature in front of her as terrifying when he looked so confused. At least until his eye flashed and a wave of red bones appeared in the air beside him.

Frisk scrambled to her feet, barely managing to jump out of the way before they struck the ground where she had been just seconds before. Her lamp was not so lucky and the path was plunged into darkness – except for the glowing eye of the monster and the red bones he threw at her. 


End file.
